


I Get Along Without You Very Well (Except Sometimes)

by Skyepilot



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Angst, Awkward Flirting, Coulson in love with Skye, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, First Time, Friendship/Love, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Music, Office, Office Sex, Peggy Carter - Freeform, Phil Coulson's Record Player, Resolved Sexual Tension, Romance, SSR, Sexual Humor, Skye and Coulson in denial, Skye feeling insecure about her alienness, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-20
Updated: 2014-11-21
Packaged: 2018-02-26 09:39:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2647214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyepilot/pseuds/Skyepilot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post 02x08.  Series of ficlets.  Now that he's on the mend Coulson is trying new ways to get close to Skye, as Skye wonders what he's up to.</p><p>Title from the Chet Baker song.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. You Make Me Smile

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Coulson buys a new record for Skye to play.
> 
> Title from the Chet Baker song, "My Funny Valentine."

New record? She's pretty sure it's new.

Unless he's found more of Peggy Carter's stash lying around somewhere.  
  
After May unlocked the old SSR vault, she's been down there going through the files and digitizing some of the information.  
  
Looking for info on aliens. _People like her_.  
  
He acts like he's not certain, but it seems pretty certain. Or maybe he's just in denial about what it means?   
  
How she doesn't belong. Never did.  
  
Even with his alien juice, at least Phillip J. Coulson was from Planet Earth.  
  
She looks at the sleeve, can tell it's vintage just by the look and the smell. She kind of likes the smell. Like history.  
  
Maybe Director Carter played that record for someone? Maybe she thought of Steve Rogers when she did?   
  
Coulson had told her about them. Shown her some old film footage from WWII where Captain America had kept her photo in his compass case.  
  
Skye imagined this woman guided a lot of things.   
  
"You've heard of him?"  
  
Coulson comes up behind her, coffee cup in hand.  
  
She's always the first in on mornings. Usually by now she's got something on the record player.  
  
"No," she answers, handing it to him. "Where did it come from?"  
  
"Got it in town after my last date with Talbot," he jokes. 

He puts his mug down and slips the record out. He does it smooth and effortlessly the way he does things.

She looks at the window and sees the rain. Still coming down.

"Perfect day for it," he says.

They were in Hawaii _and_ Australia and her foot never touched a beach. Life was so unfair.

He puts the needle against the record and the sound of a slow horn blowing hangs in the room.

Coulson. He's so nostalgic.

The voice is soft and sounds like someone with a broken heart talking between piano keys.

She sighs without trying to and sits down to get to work.  She can hear him stirring behind his desk and his coffee mug touch down on the desktop.

It feels nice, despite her mood.  That feeling is becoming more frequent.  Like they've settled back into something easy, but, it is different.

She has to stop herself from looking up to glance at him.

At first, he'd asked her what she was looking at, and then he'd stopped asking, and then he'd started staring back. 

_Just checking_.  That you're okay.   _Just checking_. That whatever took you over isn't coming back.

Maybe he's mistaking it for something else?

Her eyes flicker over at him.  She can't help it.  Okay, she's just pretty much staring.

He's smiling to himself about something, working with a file open.  Half-concentrating.  She can tell when his mind is wandering, she thinks.

Most people are really productive first thing in the morning.  With Coulson that's when he's daydreaming.  Probably has to do with his sleep patterns being so drastically altered over these last few months.

Or, he just has really great dreams.

He picks up a pen and starts tapping it slightly to the music's beat picking up.  If she'd just heard him doing that without watching him first, it probably would've annoyed her.

Now she likes it.  

Now she can go back to work.

 

 


	2. Way Down Inside

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They're flirting with each other and trying not to freak out about it. Lyrics are from Led Zeppelin's "Whole Lotta Love."

"You've been shot."  
  
She eyes the blood on the front of his trousers as they stand in the empty hallway.  
  
The shootout is over and they need to get out of here before the cops show.  
  
"Yeah."  
  
He reaches into his pocket, drawing out his wallet and taking out some bills. Standing in front of the vending machine, he shifts his weight to one hip, looking indecisively at his options.  
  
"For a second there I thought you were about to be the last of your line," she said, crossing her arms at his indifference.  
  
"Close," he replies, pushing a button firmly, then turning to look at her. "But not _that_ close."  
  
Bending down he retrieves the candy from the drawer then stands.  
  
"You interested?" he asks, holding out the candy bar towards her.  
  
She made a face and then swiped it out of his hand, starting to unwrap it.  
  
Breaking off a piece from the end, she handed it back to him.  
  
"We should get out of here," he says, chewing after popping a piece into his mouth.  
  
They head to the SUV to make their escape and she takes the keys from his hand, a bit sneaky, before he can protest.  
  
"I drive, you get cleaned up in the back," she orders, pushing the unlock button.  
  
He nodded his agreement and crawled into the backseat as she started the SUV and scanned the vicinity before pulling away.  
  
After hearing him dig around for the aid kit, he finally pried it open and she tried to distract herself when she heard him start to take his belt apart.

It's one thing to find someone charming, it's another to be lusting after the Director, which is sort of where things have arrived for her.

Mostly, she doesn't think about it.  Mostly, they work pretty seamlessly.  Then harmless and silly had turned into tension. And she thinks she'd really like for something to just happen.

Flipping on the radio, it's set to classical, so she turns the dial.

> _"Way down inside honey, you need it,_
> 
> _I'm gonna give you my love.."_

She can't help herself, she's trying not to laugh as the car fills with loud, groaning rock music, and she glances in the rear view mirror at him, locking eyes with an unmistakeable glare.  
  
When she hears his exaggerated sigh, she chuckles quietly, attempting to contain her thoughts. It goes on like that for awhile.

He finishes up and crawls forward into the passenger seat.

> _"I'm gonna give you every inch of my love..."_

His fingers reach the knob and turn the radio down low.

"I'll check in with the team," he says flatly, pulling out his phone.

She notes his jacket and tie are off and he's got his sleeves rolled up.

"The attempt to get to Raina at the seedy motel just ended up being a  HYDRA play date," he says into the phone, listening to the reply.

He's letting himself relax into the seat and she thinks about how different he is now that the alien drive is gone.

Formal when it's called for, but mostly casual.  He keeps sharing with her what he's thinking and feeling. Trying to get his footing as Director and he values her input. 

She likes the way they work together. How easily they comprehend one other.

"Okay, we'll rendezvous back at the base. You'll probably beat us there."

He ends the call and stares ahead for a moment then turns to her.

"Do you want to find this city?" he asks out of nowhere.

Her fingers grip the wheel and she loosens them a bit, replying.  "Guess we're all done with the penis jokes?"

He laughs, trying to mask his discomfort and pulls the rest of the candy bar out of his pocket.

"I just want to know what the concern is about," he says earnestly.

"I dunno," she says. "Maybe, to hear that this city isn't just a new stage in some kind of drive for you?"

"No," he said. "I just want to get there before HYDRA. Do you think the rest of the team shares that view?"

"I think," she began carefully. "There is a general concern that everything just went  _full alien_ on us."

"You mean that I did," he said, leaning his shoulder against the seat.

She looks at him for a moment, then back to the road. "If word got out the Director of SHIELD was controlled by an alien, we might be left recruiting the Raëlians."

He smiles a little, because she's still joking about it.  Which is good.

"Do  _you_ share this concern?"

"Any concerns I have are for your well being, okay?" she says, trying to reassure him.

"I know that," he quickly replies. "I meant...if you apply these concerns to yourself."

"Yes," she said right away. "I have the feeling these kinds of things, historically, tend to come with pitchfork-wielding mobs and burnings-at-the-stake.

He raised his eyebrows, considering it, which didn't exactly discourage the line of thinking.

"I'm hungry," he said suddenly. "You want to stop and get something to eat? Real food, not takeout."

"Are you going to change out of your bloody pants first?"

He just gave her a look. "Are you dining in full tactical?"

" _Right_ ."


	3. Out the Box

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Skye almost dies again, but NOT BEFORE SEX WITH PHIL.
> 
> Title is the album name that Coulson was carving to.

Her one experience of almost dying...Okay, it had pretty much felt like dying.

Her one experience when she thought she might die, but didn't, she ended up kissing Ward.

And look how that had turned out?

She's not sure why this time is different, but almost dying in an alien temple and being at the center of an alien apocalyptic conspiracy buried for centuries, has kind of left her having some thoughts.

They're the cliched sort of kinds of thoughts.

Of course now, they're back at the base. They made it through.

And then he says he wants to talk. Because she hasn't been.

It was like you could hear a pin drop in the room.

The facts about what she is aren't exactly a secret now, and as she heads up the stairs behind him to his office, she can feel the eyes of the team on her.

After holding the door open, he shuts it after and follows her as she gravitates towards his desk.

The spots they always inhabit in this room.

There are a few, but this is "serious conversation", first position.

She feels his hand on her shoulder and she tenses. Afraid to look at him, to meet his eyes.

He'll see in an instant what is crawling around in there, and she's already seen enough death today.

She doesn't want to lose this, too.

" _Skye_."

He says her name like he's trying to draw her out.

It's there again. Like she's tasting the moment again with it.

Closing her eyes she fights against it as he stands there patiently beside her.

_You never told him. You're going to die, and you never told him._

" _Please_ ," he says. There's ache in it. He must be confused, scared, too.

She tries so hard, but then turns and looks at him, not able to take it anymore. There isn't any room left inside of her to bottle it up.

His expression turns startled and then he's searching her face as his hands come to rest on her hips and he walks her back until they're against his desk.

He understands. He has to.

That's what she tells herself before she leans forward and kisses him. She's trying not to sob when she does, it's all starting to come apart inside.

Reading her, he knows what she needs. Knows exactly, and he kisses back, with his own want, like he's begging for her to give him more.

So she does.

Pushing up on her toes, she presses her whole body up against him, kissing him selfishly, forcing him to grab her and push himself up against her unless he wants them both to fall back.

His fingers dig into her hips and his lips slip against hers, and teeth, as his mouth opens over hers and he moans and pins her against the desk with his hips and his hands.

She wants the jacket off of him, now. She wants it all off, so she can touch and feel and taste everything about him.

Stepping away, he slips the jacket off his body and starts pulling at his tie.

He's watching her, like if he moves too far away, it will stop working. What's happening between them right now.

Watching his chest rise and fall she sees him moving to the record player, turning it on. Turning up the volume. Raucous jazz and it's the music that he carved to.

It makes so much sense. He's wanted to lose control.

They find each other somewhere in between and she's pulling away his tie, hitting a few buttons as his mouth works over her neck before skipping to the finish line and yanking his pants open.

She tugs him towards her by his beltloops, and they're against his desk again, he's pushing files off it thoughtlessly as he lifts her onto the top and makes quick work of her halter and uniform jacket.

She pulls the sports bra over her head and pulls the ponytail out, shaking her hair around her before pulling him into a punishing kiss that has them both fighting for air.

His mouth is trembling slightly as he unbuttons her pants and starts to pull them down her hips. As though somehow this is when it's all gone too far, or whatever control he had left is finally at an end.

When they're done with, he leans her back against the desk, his body hovering over her, pressing himself into her slowly, gasping.

Stroking his face with her fingers, she pushes her hips up to meet his and sighs.

The music changes, turning gentle and he rocks against her, trying to find a rhythm for them, kissing her more slowly now, finding her hands and locking their fingers together as she wraps her legs around his waist.

She arches her back up off the desk and forces his hands around her back, making him gather her up and he stops for a moment and she pushes him back as he slides apart from her, the loss of contact almost painful, and she takes his hand and leads him around to his chair before touching his shoulders to ease him down into it.

Then she straddles him, fitting herself across his lap, slowly sliding herself back down against his hard length as he closes his eyes and she starts to move. Her fingers are on the buttons of his shirt again, finishing what she started.

When the shirt is open, she runs her hand down his bare chest, all the way to where their bodies meet as he sucks in a breath and then her eyes land on his scar, fixated.

He doesn't care. He just lets her watch him as she moves over him, all the pleasure and emotion playing over his face.

"I wasn't about to die before I had this," she says, smiling at him.

If he wasn't flattered already, he looks really flattered now.

"I'm so glad," he says, smiling.

He pulls her close to him, he can feel her breasts against him and he lifts her hair to kiss the back of her neck, her shoulder.

She moans her approval and moves her hips over him more quickly.

Neither one of them can last much longer, there are too many emotions, too much newness to allow it.

He moves his hand down between them, and she puts his head in her hands, so she can watch his face while she comes with him.

She knows when he's close because his mouth keeps trying to form her name.

Just once, and then she falls into his arms, letting him softly stroke her back.

He turns at the sound of the record player skipping.

They aren't sure when the music ended.


End file.
